


Our Little Secret

by asterixgazer



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Diner!AU, F/M, M/M, Platonic OT4: Wild Children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 14:43:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterixgazer/pseuds/asterixgazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry has to juggle his feelings for his boss, senior year of high school, and his mothers constantly arguing over him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cattle 'Moo've in

**Author's Note:**

> Originally found on Tumblr on my page (same username). I made a damned account just to post this :) Please tell me if you see any glaring errors! It will be getting explict (yeesh, first time writing this stuff) so that's why it's under the tag. Thanks for reading!

      Neverland was booming with customers, as always. People would come in after church and get mad that other church goers were slowing the service. Peter liked to moo from behind the grill when the first of the rush came in, saying that they herded from one place to the next. Despite the influx of orders, he always seemed less irritated than other days. Sundays were Henry’s day.  
  
      The adorable little shit always turned up 15 minutes before opening because he wanted to open the door. And somehow, he always got Peter to give him the keys. He would then go into the restroom, backpack bouncing, he was so damn excited, and come out in the Neverland restaurant shirt that never seemed to fit right. It was too damn tight. Peter had offered him a different at least six times, but Henry had always refused.  
  
      Henry shimmied through the tables, careful not to bump anyone or spill anything ( _god, how Peter loved watching those hips_ ) and handed Peter an order sheet. Two salads.  
  
      “Moo.”  
  
      Henry tries not to laugh but fails miserably. “That’s really not nice, Peter. They’re not cows.”  
  
      Peter shrugs and starts to work. “When they stop acting like cows, I’ll stop.”  
  
      Henry just huffed and went off to seat a large family that had come in. Four fucking kids. That was going to be a bitch to clean up. They ended up having to push a two-seater next to a booth to seat the whole family. It wasn’t his fault that he got distracted watching Henry push. The young man’s arms flexed as he struggled against the carpeting.  
  
      Paper rustled in front of his face. “Orders, Boss Man,” Wendy chirped, leaning over the counter to shove the orders in his apron pocket.  
  
      “And where the hell have you been? You know it’s rush hour and Henry’s been doing everything!” he demanded.  
  
      Wendy just smirked and looked to the storage room, where Felix came out, silent as ever. The only difference in his otherwise stoic demeanor was the smug grin plastered on his scared face. “Well deserved break.”  
  
      “Fuck, I just cleaned in there, you tramp!” he swore at her as she picked up the coffee pot and went to refill cups. “Felix,” he yelled out. “You’re on clean up!”  
  
      Felix just went on smiling, making no sign that he had heard.  
  
      When closing time came around ( _finally_ ), Peter took off his apron and hung it up. He also took off his work shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. The fryers were fucking hot. He looked over and saw Henry watching him intently.  
  
      “It’s my restaurant, you miscreant,” he barked out, laughing when Henry flushed red and quickly looked away.  
  
      “Sorry, sir,” he said, barely loud enough for Peter to hear. Shit. He’d really scared the kid. Henry only called him ‘sir’ when he thought he was in trouble. Peter went into the employee room, put on his sweater, and grabbed Henry’s backpack, all while ignoring Wendy, who was snickering over something on her phone. Probably some cutesy text from Felix.  
  
      He made his way out to the dining area, where Henry was still in uniform, scrubbing mercilessly at a coffee stain. Peter took out Henry’s day shirt and tossed it at the boy. It landed on his head, earning Peter his attention.  
  
      “I’m sorry I saw you,” Henry murmured, taking his shirt and setting it on the table.

      “Shirtless?” Peter shrugged, sliding into a chair. “You and half of Storybrooke’s seen me shirtless, kid. I wouldn’t get too bent out of shape about it.”  
  
      “But you’re my boss and it’s not right,” Henry started. Peter went to speak, but Henry continued. “You’re 23 and I’m 17 and if people found out, my mom would put me under house arrest until my dying breath and she would lock you up in the deeper, darker of the two cells in the Sheriff’s station and she would question where she went wrong and-“  
  
      Peter stood and put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Henry, Henry. What are you talking about?”  
  
      Henry looked up at him with his ( _fucking adorable_ ) eyes and shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Nothing, sir. I have to head home.”  
  
      The boy rushed past him and ran through the door.  
  
      “Fuck,” Peter whispered, sliding into the booth. He laid flat on his back and if he concentrated, he could still smell the coffee stain Henry had been scrubbing. He heard the employee room open and Wendy came out, wild hair pulled into a braid. She was in a short black cocktail dress that hugged her curves in the right places and high heels that added to her small stature. She looked… _hot_.  
  
      “Wow, Wendy, you look like sex on legs,” Peter whistled out.

       Wendy sighed and smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. “Oh, Peter, dear, I got over you once I realized you wanted to fuck Henry senseless.”  
  
      Peter sat up and glared at her. “And I just remembered why I fuck guys.”  
  
      She just stuck out her tongue and went for the door. “I’ve gotta go, Boss. Date night with Felix. He’s taking me out to dinner.”  
  
      “Wow, Wendy, that’s really nice of you to let him out in public. You’ve got him on quite the long leash, there, darling,” Peter teased. He knew Felix loved her too much to care what she did with him.  
  
      She stopped and turned on the spot. “We could’ve had the hottest hate sex ever,” she said, checking her nails. “I’m sure Felix wouldn’t have minded. He probably would’ve loved it, the kinky bastard.”  
  
      Peter had to shake his head to get the image of Wendy riding him while Felix watched out of his mind. “Ew. You’re 19, who the fuck made you like this?”  
  
      She ignored his question and chuckled, turning back to the door. “I saw your pathetic attempt at flirting, Boss Man!”  
  
      Peter groaned and let his head hit the wall as he leaned back again. His phone buzzed in his pocket.  
  
      **From: Wendy-Bird**  
      _Foreplay’s more fun when clothes come off ;)_  
  
      That’s it. She was so fired.


	2. That's Mr. Criminal-Record-That’s-Longer-Than-Pinocchio’s-Nose to You

            Peter eventually had to lock up.  He got up from his moping and hit all the lights.  On his way to the door, he noticed Henry’s bag slumped up against a booth.  He grabbed it and locked the door, heading to his car out back.  He slid in and turned on the engine, enjoying the thrumming of the car.  It was an old clunker that his neighbor had left in his driveway when he when to Florida in the colder months, so Peter had... _misappropriated_ it to keep it warm for him.

            He had meant to go back to his apartment.  He truly had.  Which was why he was so surprised to find himself pulling down Henry’s street.  Peter pulled up to the Sheriff’s house and grabbed Henry’s bag.  He walked across the grass and knocked harshly on the door.

            “Just a minute!”

            Shit.  It was the Sheriff.  Why the fuck hadn’t he thought this through…?

            Sheriff Swan opened the door in her flannel pajamas and looked at him like she had just smelled something foul.  “Pan.”

            “Emma.  Is Henry home?” Peter asked, trying his hardest to be civil.

            She scoffed and leaned against the door frame.  “So, you take him away from me every Sunday, all day, and that isn’t enough for you?  You need to bother him at home?”

            Peter stood his ground, even dared to crowd into her space by taking a step forward.  Fuck being civil.  “He can quit any time.  But we both know he won’t.  He’s _early_ to work.  Must be because he can’t stand being around you.”

            He smirked as she went to slam the door.  He slid his foot in just before it closed.  “I have Henry’s backpack.”

            “Mom?” Peter heard.  Footsteps.  “Who’s at the door?”

            “No one, Henry.”

            “Henry!” Peter said, loud enough for the boy to hear.  Emma glared at Peter and tried to shut the door, even with his foot jammed.  Toes be damned.

            Henry walked up to the door and opened it wide.  Emma was behind him, fuming.  He stood in the doorway in nothing but a pair of boxers and a white tank top.  Fuck.

            “Did you need something, sir?”  Did he really still think he was in trouble?

            Peter held out his backpack and Henry took it tentatively.  “You left this.”

            Emma ushered Henry away from the door and hissed at Peter, “Don’t you ever come to my home again,” before kicking his foot out of the way and slamming the door in his face.  She turned on her son.

            Henry just stood there, looking at the backpack.  After a moment, he looked up at her.  “…What?”

            “Why is Peter Pan, Mr. Criminal-Record-That’s-Longer-Than-Pinocchio’s-Nose, just stopping by our house?”

            Henry shrugged.  “I don’t know.  He could’ve just texted me.”

            _Oh shit._

            “And why the hell does he have your cell phone number?!” she pressed.

            “I don’t know!” Henry always hated when she backed him into a corner like this.  “There isn’t a phone at the restaurant!  It’s for if we need call in sick!”

            Emma sighed and ran a hand through her hair.  “Okay.  I’m assuming you know why I don’t like this.  However, despite my own personal feelings, you’re responsible enough to make your own decisions.”

            Henry smiled and hugged his mom.  “I’m doing this to help with college, Mom.”  _And because I couldn’t imagine leaving Peter…_

            “I know, I know.  I just want you to limit your time with Peter,” she murmured, kissed his cheek.  Somehow, he had grown taller than her.  “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

            _Well, tough shit, Mom, because I do._   “Okay, Mom.  But Wendy and Felix are fine, right?”

            Emma pulled away.  “Yeah, they’re fine.  Those two are good.”

            Henry had to bite his lip to stop from barking out a laugh.  Wendy had this way about her around adults.  She was a golden child, but when she was at the restaurant, it was all ‘fuck’ and ‘cock’ and ‘sex’.  And she had two years on him.  Felix had three.

            Henry went to go back upstairs but Emma stopped him.  “Do you like Wendy?”

            “Yeah, she’s really cool.”

            “No, do you _like_ Wendy?” she asked again, making an elaborate hand gesture.

            Henry’s shoulders dropped.  His mom would’ve been happy if he and Wendy hooked up, got married, and had a couple of kids.  “No, Mom.  She’s with Felix.”

            Emma looked pained.  “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie.  Heartbreak is rough.  You’ll find someone else,” she said, taking his hand in hers.

            He patted the top of her hand.  “I’ll try and stay strong, Mom.”  He freed his hand from hers and rushed upstairs, where his phone rested on his bed.

            Three missed texts.

            **From: Peter**  
            _your mom didn’t look too happy.  thought i was going to sweep you away, did she?_

            **From: Peter**  
            _did she kill you?_

            **From: Peter**  
            _if she did kill you, i want your hot rod bicycle._

            Henry laughed and quickly typed out a response.

            **To: Peter**  
            _That bike is being buried with me; it was not cheap. :P_

            It took a few minutes, but his phone soon buzzed.

            **From: Peter**  
            _shit, I needed a new ride.  my neighbor’s coming back soon._

            **To: Peter**  
            _You said you bought that off him!_

            **From: Peter**  
            _i won’t tell if you won’t._

            **To: Peter**  
            _Ha ha, okay.  It’ll be our little secret._

            This one took a little longer.

            **From: Peter**  
            _i knew i kept you around for a reason._

            Henry smiled and leaned back onto his pillows.  He typed back ‘ _Not for my good looks?  Peter, you wound me!_ ’

**From: Peter**  
            _go to bed, henry.  you have school in the morning._

**To: Peter  
            ** _You’re more like my mom than you care to admit._

This one was almost instantaneous.

            **From: Peter  
            **_come around to neverland tomorrow morning, see if you get free breakfast before school again._


End file.
